


when iguanas have wings

by Magali_Dragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, I am such jonerys fluff trash I swear, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, kind of a crack fic, the dragons are iguanas, things Jon does for love of Daenerys, what I write instead of other things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: Jon Snow has only been dating Daenerys Targaryen for a couple months and one thing he knows for certain are that her three giant iguanas are like her children and she loves dragons. Obsessively so. When she has a bad couple weeks he cheers her up….by giving her the best of both worlds.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 70
Kudos: 467





	when iguanas have wings

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I look at cute animal videos instead of writing my other fics. It's kind of crack fic-ish, but also just flufffffff.
> 
> Enjoy :D

* * *

The day Jon Snow met Daenerys Targaryen, he knew it was love at first sight.

He also knew he would do anything for her, absolutely fucking anything, as foolish and stupid and dumb and asinine…he would do it.

And that included scouring every single pet store within fifty miles of Kings Landing, going so far as to call ahead to them, in an attempt to find what he was looking for, what he’d envisioned in his head. He sick, twisted, love-added head. He dropped his phone onto the coffee table, scrubbing his face, after yet another negative call with another pet store, this one almost clear to Highgarden. “No luck,” he mumbled into his palms.

His co-conspirator wrangled into this thing because she happened to be standing there when the genius—or insane—idea struck him, smiled sympathetically. Or perhaps she was just glad he hadn’t succeeded and maybe she could escape. His cousin Arya, more like his sister, shrugged. “Well I guess you’re done then. It was a nice idea Jon, very cute, but too bad, find something else.”

“It’s so hard to make her happy.”

“You’ve been dating her for like three months.”

And in those three months Jon discovered that Dany had everything at her fingertips. You wouldn’t know it looking at her, he certainly hadn’t when he’d gone up to talk to her at the gala on a drunken dare from his cousin Robb, that she was the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Westeros, who old money, new money, foreign money, every type of money you could think about. In her vintage dress, understated jewelry, and battered combat boots, Dany looked more like she belonged at an outdoor music festival than the Conqueror Museum of Westerosi History annual gala event.

She was there because her brother Rhaegar couldn’t attend, so she was the Targaryen face for the evening. He thought her hair was a wig or dyed for the occasion, as many other women had done. Nope, it was pure silver-gold, as real as the violet irises of her eyes, and the perfect pink moue of her lips. She was funny, sweet, kind, and when Robert Baratheon tried to squeeze her arse, she stepped on his foot in those giant boots and then kneed him in the dick, grabbing hold of his ear and threatening to tell his wife what he’d done.

Jon was in love.

The thing with Dany, he’d also discovered, was yes, she had everything she could ever want, but she also didn’t have it either. She was a teacher, while her family were corporate raiders involved in everything, she wanted to help underprivileged children. She taught in the shittiest of school districts in Fleabottom, had done most of her student teaching in equally depressing locations in Essos, and was working on getting her third graduate degree in Child Psychological Development. She was using her inheritance for good, trying to save one child at a time, particularly the orphans. Courtesy of her own experience in that unfortunate world.

He wanted to cheer her up; she’d been so down of late, funding cuts and losing a couple of her students to the sad disappearances in the system, when their families just up and left. She took on everything so deeply, so personally, which was part of why he loved her, but it also saddened her to a point where Jon didn’t know what to do exactly.

Especially when your girlfriend literally could buy the world if she wanted.

His giant albino shepherd, partially mixed with wolf if Jon believed the Doggy DNA report Arya had done on him, jumped up onto the couch and stretched his huge carpet-like body over Jon’s knees, a ratty gross tattered lion toy in his mouth. “Ghost, stop,” he mumbled, rubbing Ghost’s ears. The drool dropped from the toy onto his knee. He made a face; it was either drool or white hair covering him, thanks to the dog. “Hey, here, go get it.” He tore the lion from Ghost’s jaws and tossed it backwards.

The silent dog—he was mute—snapped his jaws and bounced up, using Jon’s knees as a springboard to lauch himself over the back of the couch, snatching the lion back up. Arya shook her head, sighing. “He’s such a smart dog, then he does things like that.”

“Yeah I think he thinks he really is a wolf.”

“Hey that Doggy DNA…”

“Was a total scam.”

Arya made a face, getting up from the chair next to him. “Whatever, I still think its real.” She went down the hall, calling over her shoulder. “Face it Jon, you’ve got it bad for Dany, you’re sitting around here moping like… _augh!_ ”

Whatever he was sitting around moping like, Jon never found out. He winced, remembering too late what was in the guest bathroom, and jumped up, running down the hall to join Arya in the doorway. “Uh, yeah I forgot to tell you.”

“ _What the fuck are those things!?_ ”

The things Arya stood gaping at, which Jon made a note to remember as his cousin was never scared of anything, barely flinched at the noise. They were semi-comatose, the bathroom a little on the colder side courtesy of the less than average summer temperatures they’d been having. It made Jon long for the North, a place he suspected his babysitting charges would not be happy about. He ran his hand over his hair, sending his raven curls springing in several directions. He sighed. “They’re the iguanas of course.”

“What the seven hells!? They’re massive!”

The three iguanas were lazing around the bathroom, a heat lamp hooked up and positioned atop the toilet seat, only one of them partaking in the reddish glow. He pointed them out in turn. “The red and black is Drogon, the bright green with kind of bronze scales is Rhaegal, and the creamy colored one is Viserion.”

Not one of the iguanas looked up although Rhaegal did roll one of his yellow eyes towards them, his talons curling deeper into the fake tree log sitting in the bathtub. Each one of them was brilliantly colored and roughly three-feet long. Drogon was the largest, nearing about four and weighed several pounds. They were actually kind of cute, when you looked at them a little…differently.

He scratched the back of his head, noting the bowl of kale chips was empty. “Hey guys, I can’t keep hitting Arbor Foods, you know how expensive that organic Reach shit is,” he mumbled, kneeling to pick up the bowl. He glanced at Arya, who was still staring at them in repulsed curiosity. “What did you think I was talking about when I said I wanted to get those things for her iguanas?”

“I don’t know, something like a lizard!”

“They are lizards.”

“They’re lizards on steroids!”

He had to give her that. When Daenerys told him about her _children_ at the gala, he’d initially thought she actually did have children. Her friend Missandei had tried to get her to stop talking at that point, but she carried on, later saying she didn’t care what he thought of how much she loved them, they were her babies and that was that. He considered Ghost a mix of brother/son/best friend/soulmate/companion, so he completely understood her devotion.

He also thought when she referred to “dragons” that they were some sort of weird breed of lizards, but she admitted they were actually Valyrian iguanas. Flushed, eager to share the information, her eyes dancing, she waxed on. _“A very rare species of iguana found only near the ruins of Old Valyria. They were a gift for me when I turned sixteen, Rhaegar and Viserys found them, they were just tiny little things. Now they’re not so tiny. I still call them dragons. Dragons are what Targaryens are known for, you know.”_

The entire Red Keep was draped in Targaryen sigils, designs, artifacts, inventions, and history, so yes Jon knew full well the family’s long fascination and association with the long extinct creatures. There were dragon skulls in an entire wing of the museum, which she’d immediately pulled him to that night, and after only knowing her three hours, Jon Snow kissed her there, under the watchful and scary vacant eyes of Balerion the Black Dread’s skull.

“I mean, an iguana is like…” Arya held her hands out about a foot from each other. She was still in awe of the three currently chilling in his guest bathroom. She also seemed to no longer have to pee, as she was moving a little closer to Drogon. “They’re so cool.”

“She does treat them very well.” The first time he’d encountered her children had been a bit terrifying. There was an entire bedroom suite devoted to them in her townhouse. She spent every paycheck on them. State-of-the-art terrarium, veterinary care, and she could often be found cuddling one of them—usually Drogon—on the couch reading or watching a movie when she was relaxing.

Arya offered her finger towards Viserion, who had slowly moved towards her. He was the most curious. “So you’re still going to try to do this silly plan of yours?”

“It’s not silly.” _It’s silly._

“Well I think we’ll have to DIY it.”

Jon nodded, looking down as Rhaegal began to munch on his bootlaces. He knelt and lifted the heavy reptile up like he used to with Ghost as a puppy, the iguana’s claws digging into the bare skin on his forearm. A yellow eye locked on his. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“It’s your harebrained idea, not mine. When does she get back?”

The reason they were with him and not at her house was that Dany had to go with her brothers to Volantis for some sort of Targaryen Group annual conference she was contractually obligated to attend. He had felt weird so early on in their relationship staying alone at her place, especially with Ghost, so she allowed her children to stay with him. He was terrified he’d fuck something up with them but so far, they seemed okay with their accommodations.

Even if they ate better than he did. Although Ghost did too, his dog was on a very _bougie_ as Arya called it, diet consisting of gourmet raw meats and proteins. If you gave him actual dog food crunchies there was a good chance, he’d take a shit in your bed. Then look at you innocently with a _who me?_ face. Which his cousin Sansa had learned the hard way last summer.

He scratched Rhaegal behind the spines in the middle of his back, which he apparently enjoyed. Ghost nosed between his legs, staring at the interlopers to his domain, still unsure of their presence. “Three days.”

“We don’t have much time. I’ll call Gendry, he can stop at the art store.”

“Gendry goes to the art store?”

“He’s an artist, he knows more about that shit than me.”

Jon nodded idly, wondering how they were going to go about doing this. He frowned, setting Rhaegal back down and closed the door so they didn’t end up hanging off his curtain rod like they had yesterday. “I think I know what I’m going to do.” He went over to his desk, rummaging over prints, storyboards, and random camera lenses and equipment. He grabbed a scrap piece of paper, making a list.

Arya peeked over his shoulder. “Wait a minute, you didn’t say anything about having to _sew_?!”

* * *

Daenerys was exhausted. The first thing she was going to do when she got home was kiss Jon, then kiss her children. Maybe she would kiss her children first. Whomever was there first when she opened the door, she supposed. The flights from southern Essos were so draining. It wasn’t just the time change, but the switch in climate, the multiple layovers, _ugh_.

She felt dirty, scaly, and dried out. Not to mention the conference had been the equivalent to having her life force drained out of her. Rhaegar forced her and Viserys to attend because they were shareholders, they _had_ to be there, but she didn’t have voting rights and she was only there to pitch the non-profit’s new charity, focused entirely on getting proper medical care for children in impoverished areas of major cities. They were always lost in the cracks, she thought, taking it personally.

She had just had a shit few weeks was all. The funding cuts, losing track of some of her students…she hated it. Then this. She didn’t want to go away for as long as hse had to, she hated leaving her children and right now she really hated leaving Jon.

 _Jon_.

Gods, she loved that man so much. She had never considered herself someone who would ever fall in love at first sight or any of those overdone cliches, but there he was at that gala, looking rather awkward in his black suit, his hair carelessly loose and messy, while every other man was dressed to the nines and buttoned up and coiffed expertly. Jon’s boots might have been polished, as were the little line of medals on his chest in deference to the requirement that as former military he wear them with any formal dress, but he stood out in the same way she did.

He’d been a little tipsy when he’d encountered her, flushing embarrassedly as he offered to get her a drink. Then he’d challenged her when she made some comment about the Northern history museum galas being more boring than the one, they were at. They argued, he’d been rather uncouth, and then before she knew it, they were off in their own bubble, and making out in the Skull Chamber with dragons staring at them.

She missed him desperately; talking to him daily wasn’t the same. She ran out of the car once it stopped at the curb, hurrying to her townhouse and fumbling with the keys. “Jon!” she called, hoping he was there, as she’d requested him to be. She frowned, looking around the space. It was like no one was there. “Hey? Jon!”

The dragons’ room was also empty, but their heating lamps and the heated floor were also on, their water and food fresh, so she knew he’d dropped them off. She called for them, but they didn’t answer. Dany wasn’t sure what she’d do if they did. She pinned her hands on her hips, scowling. She turned away, to go back downstairs, when a scroll taped to the wall caught her attention.

“What in the world?”

She pulled it free, frowning at the weathered paper. It looked like something out of a medieval movie. She laughed at the seal on it, of a wolf embossed in black wax. Weird. She broke it, unrolling the paper, and studied the script, old-fashioned writing.

_For my Queen, Daenerys, of House Targaryen,_

_You have already conquered me,_

_so there is no need to ask me to bend the knee._

_House Targaryen is Fire and Blood, three dragons yes?_

_Perhaps you’d like to see them in real life, I guess?_

_Your Love,  
Jon Snow, Bastard of Winterfell_

A laugh escaped her lips, her hand coming to cover her mouth, equally curious and moved. She nibbled her bottom lip, reading the missive multiple times. It was poor rhyming, but he’d tried. _What is he doing?_ She didn’t like that he used the name he’d grown up with, as the son of Lyanna Stark, who didn’t know his father. She knew it was keeping with the silly medieval type of letter he’d put together.

“What are you up to Jon Snow?” she mumbled, taking the letter and carrying it with her down the stairs. She went outside, looking around, unsure what she was supposed to see.

Until she saw it.

The sound she made was almost inhuman.

One could not have moved as fast as her, unless they had wings, or a rocket engine attached to them. She flew off the porch, down the stairs, across her postage-stamp front yard, and to the sidewalk, where Jon stood with three leashes—a red, green, and yellow—attached to three harnesses with matching colors. And attached to those harnesses…

_Wings_

Giant wings, sewn and painted and taped and put together to appear like they were coming from the sides of the iguanas, giving them the appearance of real-life dragons. All three of her children were happy in the sunlight, walking slowly towards her, their tails flicking from side to side with the movement. “I cannot believe you did this!” she squealed, laughing and running to leap at him, almost knocking the leashes from his hands. “You stupid, stupid man, I love you.”

The words came out before she realized them, at the same time he blurted them too: “Gods Dany, I love you.”

They momentarily stared at each other, his stormy gray eyes locking onto her vibrant purple ones. Her mouth snapped shut, lips pressing together, trying to keep from crying. He looked shy again, suddenly averting his gaze down from her to the ground. She grabbed at his face, turning it towards her again. “Did you just say you love me?” she asked.

His throat bobbed. “Aye,” he mumbled.

“Oh…good.”

His eyes widened. “And you?”

She giggled. “Yes.”

“Oh good,” he repeated. His shoulders fell, obviously relieved. “I…I thought you might like…to feel better. It’s been a shit couple weeks for you so…well…your dragons welcome you home.”

Dany gazed down at the three iguanas, laughing and grinning at the sight of them. “You are all dragons, yes you really are!” She let go of Jon, to kneel and hug and pet her babies. The neighbors already thought her a mad woman, speaking about her behind her back, she might as well let them believe it further, her dinosaur-like iguanas scratching around the pavement, their wings fluttering each time their stomachs expanded with their deep breaths.

She even noticed that they had their names embroidered on their harnesses. Jon still held the leashes, chuckling. “I thought we might as well go all in, um, there’s another surprise for you inside.”

“I cannot even imagine.”

They walked her sons up the sidewalk back to the house, the three giant iguanas moving quickly with the return of the warmth to Kings Landing. She let them inside, unclipping their leashes. They went to their favored spots in the living room, their wings still fluttering with their movements. It made her grin, filled her with such childlike glee. There weren’t really dragons anymore; some said the petrified eggs on display in the museum might one day hatch, but that was just a dream she had sometimes.

She turned to Jon, who stood behind her again, although now he held a book in his hands. It was a photo album, leather bound and embossed with the Targaryen sigil. “Is it my birthday?” she laughed, wondering what she’d done to deserve such gifts. She sat down on the couch, patting beside her. He joined her, his arm going around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, turning the cover to see the first page.

Her three dragons all sitting on the Iron Throne.

Her eyes widened. “Oh gods Jon.”

“Um…I pulled some strings…my friend Sam got me…you know…” he stammered, trying to play it off. “Just a fun photoshoot thing…I figured while I had them dressed up you know… _mppfh_.”

Sometimes Jon Snow could be so direct it was annoying. Then there was moments like now, where he had no idea what to say. She kissed him, silencing him, wanting him to know how much she loved him. She didn’t think there had ever been anyone in her life who was so considerate of her feelings, who wanted so much to make her feel better, and would go to these lengths. All because she’d been in a bad mood the last few weeks.

It wouldn’t change what was really going on in the world, but it made her heart swell, full and bursting, and she could die right there in his arms, happy. She broke the kiss, a moment later, forehead pressed to his. “I love you,” she giggled. She nuzzled his jaw, while he placed errant kisses along hers. “Oh gods Jon, I love you, I love you!”

“I love you too,” he replied, still a little shy. He pulled away to brush a few stray strands of her hair off her cheeks, away from her face. He grinned. “You might want to look at the rest of the photos.”

The rest of the photos were as adorable as the first. Her three sons with their dragon wings, posing on the Iron Throne, in the Red Keep, in Maegor’s Holdfast, on the ramparts of the castle, and in the Small Council chamber. They were on dragonstone glass in one of the exhibits and in another they were standing around the Targaryen standard, the flag artfully draped on the floor. It was a photoshoot like Jon had never done, she suspected, grinning at each and every page.

And when she got to the end ,she turned, expecting to see one final photo of her children, but instead there was a picture of Ghost, his red eyes happy, his tongue lolling out, as he posed in front of a gray flag with a white wolf. She laughed. “I see Ghost couldn’t be left out.”

He grinned next to her. “No, if they got to be dragons, he got to be a direwolf.”

“What’s this flag?”

“Sam found it in the archives. Belonged to the real Bastard of Winterfell, the original Jon Snow. I guess bastards had to invert their father’s standards, so his would be a white wolf on a gray background. Fits, Ghost thinks so at least.” He rested his chin on her shoulder, peering down at it. He smiled into her neck. “You like it?”

Dany set the photo album down on the table and turned in his lap, looping her arms over his neck, kissing him, over and over again. She pulled back, long enough to breathe, “Do you think I like it?”

He grinned. “I thin kso.”

“I can show you more, but not in front of the children.”

Jon laughed, jumping to his feet and swung her up into his arms. “Come my Queen, let’s take this somewhere more private.”

“Of course my King, but first I need you to bend the knee.”

“But I already did.”

Dany grabbed the back of his neck, kissing him hard. She wiggled her eyebrows saucily. “Hmm, not yet you haven’t.”

His cheeks flamed when he realized what she referred to and glanced back at the three dragons watching them. Drogon in particular seemed rather annoyed at what Jon was doing to his mother. She giggled. “Sorry boys, you don’t need to see this.”

Dany squealed, laughing hysterically as he ran her up the stairs, kicking the door shut behind them.

**the end.**


End file.
